The Colour of Vengeance (28 page)

The woman said nothing, nor did her expression change from the cold stare of the unimpressed.

“Don't reckon she's right pleased ta see me, Bones,” Thorn said.

The giant nodded. “Fair ta say. Can ya blame her?”

“Not a drop.”

Again the giant laughed, loud and deep. “So who ya travellin' with these day?”

“Reckon ya know this one,” Thorn gave Henry a nudge and she stumbled a step, then tilted her hat and grinned up at the giant. The smile that spread across the giant's face was huge and genuine.

“As I live an' breathe. If I try ta hug you, ya gonna get all stabby?” he asked.

“Always a danger,” Henry said back, still grinning.

“I'll leave it out then, I reckon. Damned good ta see ya again all the same. I heard... well Swift said he saw you go down back in Hostown, said one of those... things got ya.”

Anders saw Henry go red, saw her jaw clench, her hands ball into fists. Thorn saw it too. He put a three-fingered hand on Henry's shoulder and fixed her with a stare.

“Reckon we can talk 'bout that later, Bones. This drunken fool next ta me is Anders.”

“It's a pleasure to meet you,” Anders said staring up at the giant. “And may I say you are without a doubt the biggest man I have ever seen.”

The giant just laughed and Thorn continued the introduction. “This is Heavy-Hand Joan an' Six-Cities Ben.”

The laughter stopped and the grin dropped. “Reckon I know those names. Never thought I'd see the Black Thorn travellin' with hunters though.”

“Needs must, big man,” Six-Cities Ben said. “The Saint said he met you once, said you were a nice enough bastard but kept a strange trophy.”

The giant nodded. “Never thought I'd see you travellin' with their types, Thorn,” he repeated.

“Never thought I'd travel with an Arbiter neither, Bones. But then I followed one all the way ta Sarth an' got this fer my trouble,” Thorn pointed at his eye-patch.

“Is it...”

Thorn lifted up the patch to show the hollow socket beneath, Anders looked away. Truth was that was the first time he’d ever seen beneath the patch and it was fairly horrifying.

“Shit,” said the giant.

“Aye,” said Thorn. “I dunno what ya doin' here, Bones but reckon we need ta run. We were chased all the way through the Fade by wraiths. Even took one o' us. Always attacked at night. Reckon they'll be here come nightfall.”

The giant took a deep breath and let it out as a sigh. “Sorry ta hear ya lost a man, Thorn, but ya safe here. Wraiths are an issue out in the Fade an' no mistake but they don't come into town. Ancient charms or some such set deep into the ground all round the limits. Keeps the damned things at bay. Don’t stop ‘em wailin’ though.”

“I assume they work a little better than this charm?” Anders asked, holding up the small wooden coin Thorn had given him the first night they had been attacked.

The giant squinted at the necklace and laughed. “Pater sold ya that, aye? Barman back in Trevil.” Anders nodded. “Aye. He sells those ta folk who don't know better. 'Bout as useful as a limp cock in a whorehouse.” The giant paled and turned quickly holding his hands up towards the woman in a placating fashion. “Not that I'd know. Not been near one since I met you, love. Least not since I married ya.”

The woman who Thorn had named Beth just stared on in silence with her arms crossed treating Thorn to the full force of her glare.

“Damned unnerving, that is,” said Six-Cities Ben. “You murder her mother or something, Thorn?”

“If only,” Thorn responded in his rough voice. “Reckon she might have forgiven me fer that.”

The giant nodded but the smile dropped from his face. “Some things we need ta talk 'bout, Thorn. Be best if they were said over a drink.”

“Now that is the best idea I've heard all day,” Anders said, grinning.

The giant didn't lead them, as Anders had expected, to the tavern but instead to the town guildhall. They were not only followed by the woman named Beth who spent all her time giving Thorn the most evil of eyes possible but also by half a dozen soldiers wearing a uniform of sorts, although the armour was clearly old and well in need of replacements. Truth was the whole situation had a worryingly formal air about it. Anders drained the last of his wine skin in nervous anticipation and prayed to the Gods that another drink would be placed in his hands soon.

Once inside the guildhall the giant dismissed the soldiers with a wave though the woman stayed close, her left hand resting on the hilt of her sword, her chain mail glinting in the lantern light. Anders was confused, Thorn looked more confused and Henry just stared about in open-mouthed curiosity. Only the two bounty hunting brothers didn't appear vexed by the situation but that was perhaps because they were too wary.

The giant led them into an office and sat behind a large wooden desk.

“Bones...” Thorn began.

“Beth, find us all somethin' ta drink. Stronger the better,” the giant interrupted. Beth moved slowly to a locked, wooden cabinet and produced a key from a pocket. Anders was vaguely aware of Thorn speaking but his entire attention was focused on the possible contents of the cabinet. He licked his lips in anticipation and waited. The bottle the woman produced was made of clay and had no labelling; she walked over to the giant's desk and near slammed it down.

“Well the thing is,” the giant said, uncorking the bottle and taking a large swig. “I kinda own the place.” He started to pass the bottle right towards Anders but Thorn intercepted it.

“He gets it last or the rest o' us ain't likely ta see a sip,” Thorn said. “What the fuck do ya mean 'ya own the place'?”

Thorn swigged down a mouthful and winced. Anders could already tell from the smell it was a type of rum and strong rum at that. Thorn passed the bottle to Henry.

“Well the thing is. Me an' Swift, we thought the rest o' ya were dead. So when we got back ta Chade an' he collected the earnings from the H'ost job. We only split it the two ways. Hundred an' fifty thousand bits is a lot of money.”

Anders snorted as he watched Henry pass the bottle to Six-Cities Ben leaning against the far wall nestled in the crook between the door frame and a bookshelf.

“Hmmm,” Thorn grunted.

“I took my share an' me an' Beth decided ta get out of the game. So I used the bits ta buy the Fade, Fogwatch an' everythin' in it.” The giant waved a big hand around him. “I own everythin’.”

“Bought it from who?” Thorn asked. The bottle had made its way to Heavy-Hand Joan who was on his second swig and looking an awful lot like considering a third.

“Lord Sanvel. The Fade is... was in the upper reaches of his territory, a sort of natural border between him and the Brekovichs. He didn't want nowt ta do with it though so I, urgh, purchased it. Nice little place if ya don't mind the isolation an' the occasional bout of wailin'.”

Heavy-Hand Joan gave the bottle a shake, was about to take a fourth swig then stopped and walked forwards, handing the bottle to Anders who gratefully up ended the contents into his mouth and quickly chugged down a good three mouthfuls of dark, delicious rum. It was like liquid fire running down his throat and into his stomach and it was the most wonderful thing he had ever tasted. He glanced around looking for more but Beth had locked the cabinet.

“Reckon we should leave, Thorn. First light come morning. No sense in staying here,” Joan said in a harsh voice.

Thorn looked up at Joan from the single chair in front of the old, decaying desk and shook his head. “Look, Bones, I'm gonna tell it straight. We're headed ta Chade ta kill Swift an' every one of us in this room got more than enough of a reason ta do it. First off there's a fair-sized bounty on my head courtesy of that half-blooded bastard. These boys want him on account of his killin' the Saint. You want him cos, truth is, he screwed you out of a lot o' money.”

“Eh?”

“How much did the H'ost job really pay, Henry?” Thorn asked, not taking his eyes off of the giant.

“One million gold bits.”

Six-Cities Ben whistled, Heavy-Hand Joan steadied himself on the corner of the desk, the giant looked confused as if trying to work out in his head how big a pile that would make, and Beth took a step back and leaned against the wall. Even Anders had to admit a million bits was a lot of money, not the most he'd ever seen, nor the most he’d ever lost but a lot all the same. He noticed Thorn looking at him expectantly.

Catching on quickly Anders took a step forward and put on his best grave look. “If the real payment for the job was one million bits and Swift gave you a measly one hundred and fifty thousand then he kept eight hundred and fifty thousand for himself. That's roughly six times as much as you received. Put into more visual terms; you were able to buy a run-down, crap-hole of a town surrounded by bloodthirsty, walking... or floating wraiths in the middle of a permanent shroud of grey fog. Swift used his share to buy Chade, or at least a fair portion of it; the richest free city in the wilds.

“You sit in a decaying office of rotting wood drinking cheap rum from a clay bottle while he sits in luxury between four stone walls sipping only the most expensive wines served to him by hundreds of soft, nubile, virgin girls.

“You...”

“Enough, Anders,” Thorn said with a wry smile. “Reckon Bones gets the point.”

“So he robbed all three of us then.” the giant said in a quiet voice.

Anders saw Thorn glance at Henry and then back to the giant. “Aye. Good enough reason ta want some vengeance, I reckon.”

A long silence followed; so long Anders started to look for ways to occupy himself. He put the empty bottle on the decrepit desk and fought the urge to scratch at his missing finger as he looked around the room. When his eyes fell on Beth he noticed her scar for the first time; a faded white ridge of flesh running along her neck from one side of her jaw to the other. Anders had never seen a scar like that before but he wagered he knew where it came from. Only way to get a scar like that was to have your neck slit. Not many folk survived such, none so far as Anders had heard.

“Can't do it, Thorn,” the giant said from behind his too-small desk. “I've got a town ta run, can't just up an' leave, go runnin' off with my old crew. I got myself out of the game.”

Thorn said nothing.

“Ya might have noticed the repairs? Turns out the fog tends ta rot through wood so we're turnin' every building here ta stone. It happens ta be a long, laborious an' costly affair.”

Thorn said nothing.

“The people here, good folk, they look ta me ta make decisions these days. I keep everyone civil, keep everyone working. I got responsibilities.”

“The Boss never trusted Swift,” Thorn said, he glanced at Henry briefly and then away. “Dangerous, he used ta call him. Only three of us knew who ordered the H'ost job; the Boss, me an' Henry. Now with the Boss dead an' me all the way in Sarth, how do ya think Swift found out the name of the client? Truth is Swift got the drop on Henry back in Chade. Found her, beat the information out of her an' left her fer dead.”

Anders saw the giant's mouth drop open and he looked to Henry who in turn did her very best effort to stare a whole through the floor. He could see her cheeks were a burning red colour.

“That ain't somethin' ya do ta the people ya crew with,” Thorn continued. “Come with us, Bones. Iron Beth too. We take revenge on that bastard Swift an' maybe see if we can't get our rightful pay fer the H'ost job thrown in.”

“I...” the giant started but stopped, closing his mouth to stop talking. He looked at Henry again then back to Thorn. The woman by his side finally tore her steel-edged gaze from the Black Thorn and moved closer to the giant, whispering something in his ear. The giant nodded.

“Irwin,” the giant shouted in his deep voice, a moment later the door to the office opened and a soldier stepped in. “Take these folk ta the
Widow
, drinks are on me fer them.” He turned his attention back to Thorn. “Got some things ta discuss with Beth. I'll be along later.”

By the time the giant showed up at the
Weeping Widow
Anders was well and truly into stage eight of the drunken scale and was happily singing along to a rowdy ditty about the pirate and his prize with his arms hanging over the shoulders of Davet Wolfsbane and a local who smelled like cabbage. He quickly disentangled himself from the tune murdering duo and sauntered over to where Thorn, Henry, Joan and Ben were sat.

The giant pulled up a chair that looked to be roughly half the required size and sat. Anders stepped up behind Henry and knelt beside her. She leaned into him just a little.

“Had some time ta think it over...” the giant started, he was rubbing at a necklace underneath his tunic.

“An' what did Beth decide?” Henry asked with her usual sneer.

The giant laughed. “Beth decided ta leave the decision up ta me fer once, miracle as that is. We're goin' with ya; me an' her. But jus' fer this one job. Ain't joinin' ya crew, Thorn.”

“It ain't a crew,” Thorn protested.

“Well whatever the fuck it is we ain't joinin' it. Jus' goin' ta make sure that blooded bastard gets what he deserves.” The giant gave a nod towards Henry. “Got some shit ta take care of 'fore we go, preparations an' the like. Be a couple o' days I reckon. That good?”

Thorn nodded. “Good.”

Pern stood over the body, feeling a light breeze against his skin as the man opposite him made ready to charge. The moon was bright and the stars were out and the streets of Chade ran crimson with blood.

The old pirate charged Pern, screaming an obscenity as he rushed toward his death. With exaggerated calm Pern simply stepped to his side, away from the blade careening toward his skull. In one quick move his sword flew from its scabbard and slashed across the man. The pirate hit the floor heavy, his arm hit the floor a few feet further on, then the screaming started. Pern approached the fallen man and thrust his sword through his chest, into his heart. No sense in leaving an enemy alive.

Another pirate, this one a woman with fine blue tunic and a pair of hatchets came towards Pern. He reversed the grip on his sword, ducked and stepped into her attack. Their momentum and the edge on his blade did all the work. Her side opened up and she collapsed to the floor gurgling as her life drained from her body.